


Peroration

by Ezlebe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femlux, Rule 63, Vaginal Fingering, mild exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezlebe/pseuds/Ezlebe
Summary: Hux looks up from her book as a pair of black Chelsea boots stomp into the scope of her vision, sparing a soft sigh of exasperation. “Don’t you have another transfiguration exam to practice cheating at?”“I’ve told you,” Ren says, shoving in on the bench to sit sideways across the entire thing, throwing her legs into Hux’s lap and unwinding her scarf with clear intent to settle in. “I don’t cheat.”





	Peroration

Hux looks up from her book as a pair of black Chelsea boots stomp into the scope of her vision, sparing a soft sigh of exasperation. “Don’t you have another transfiguration exam to practice cheating at?”

“I’ve told you,” Ren says, shoving in on the bench to sit sideways across the entire thing, throwing her legs into Hux’s lap and unwinding her scarf with clear intent to settle in. “I don’t cheat.”

Hux rolls her eyes down to the pair of thighs now obstructing her view, taking physical precedence over the book. She can feel all that precious focus leaking out her ears, every integer of today’s arithmancy forgotten at the startling sight of a few centimeters of soft skin. Ren is wearing thigh socks again, an out-of-regulation hemmed skirt, both presumably just to drive Hux to an early grave.

“Studying is useless, anyway,” Ren says, leaning forward and taking the book from beneath her knees, closing it with a single hand and depositing it to the ground near Hux’s feet, hopefully on top of her bag. “You’re not learning, you’re only memorizing.”

“Hah,” Hux mutters, hesitantly flattening a palm over Ren’s calf. She knows it's nowhere near forward as Ren, but feels certain that she’ll do something unpleasant all the same. The physicality is still so foreign, making her nervous and defensive – she had never expected this, wasn’t prepared for Ren’s crowding close in fights or matches to be equaled and overcome by this eagerness to put herself all over Hux like a warm, ambulatory duvet.

She doesn’t hate it, exactly, but she had thought this sort of thing was something people only did in books or on muggle telly — she’s never seen Maratelle and Brendol do more than grimace politely when seeing each other unexpectedly, but Ren, in the same situation, will crowd in close like the hall’s not three meters wide. She has admittedly always done it, but _before_ it had only been to start a fight, and now it could either be that, or she’s sneaking up to shove her nose in Hux’s neck like there’s something more there than soap.

She startles slightly when the leg under her hand straightens and pushes her loose grip higher, around Ren’s bronze and blue knee.

“We’re in public, Organa,” Hux says, though she doesn’t try to move her hand lower again, biting slightly at the inside of her lip.

“Not really,” Ren disagrees, gesturing toward the nearby wood with a short turn of her hand. “This bench is at the end of the path – practically in the Forbidden Forest. It’s not like we’re in the library.”

“We should be,” Hux says, as something flickers on in her head, momentarily forgetting Ren’s provocative gestures and draining the blush, and indeed all blood, from her face. “NEWTs are in – ”

“A _month_ ,” Ren interjects, her tone gone outright stroppy.

“Exactly!” Hux hisses, feeling the now-familiar panic stir behind her ribs, threatening to fill her lungs where there should be breath. She’s been trying very hard not to think about it. “That’s hardly any time at all.”

Ren groans low in her throat, rolling her eyes with that typical frustrating apathy. “I’m sure you’ll get Os in all of them and be a perfect little – the mad scientists; what are they called again?”

“I’ve told you,” Hux says slowly, reminding herself that Ren certainly didn’t come round to be lectured on the traditions of certain English wizarding families, even if she always seems to be asking for it. Four months ago, Hux probably would’ve just told her to get fucked, which she’s only _tempted_ to do now. “I’m studying to be a solicitor. I can’t be an Unspeakable.”

“You could _try_ ,” Ren says, leaning against the back of the bench, a perturbed little pinch at her mouth. “You’re always coming up with weird shit.”

“And what are _you_ going to do?” Hux asks tightly, turning the question on Ren when she feels a furious sort of heat begin to seep high on her cheeks, replacing anxiety with anger. She can’t talk about this again, refuses to until she’s forty and Minister of Magic, comfortably looking back on what she thought she wanted as a teenager. “You should be studying, too – you won’t get any prospects based on transfiguration and charms alone.”

“Actually, I – ” Ren pauses for a length, then clears her throat, eyes cutting away and towards the Forest. “I got an offer to join the Fitchburg Finches. As a beater. Maybe a chaser, too, if they let me.”

“Fitchburg?” Hux prompts, feeling a low sinking in her chest, attempting to keep her expression from similarly falling.

“It’s an American team,” Ren says, confirming suspicions with a stilted shrug. “In Massachusetts.”

“I had no idea you were trying for that,” Hux says, because what else is she supposed to say? She’s actually certain she’s mocked Ren a time or two that it was her only option for a career, between her lack of concern for studies that aren’t _interesting_ and her propensity for taking her bat off the pitch. “Professional quidditch.”

“I wasn’t,” Ren says, trying to sound dismissive, but there’s that smug roll of lips behind her teeth, proud and pleased at herself. “But a few of the recruiters were here, and… Fitchburg made me an offer.”

Hux suppresses a few stupid comments about considering more options, of how someone can’t play quidditch forever. “You’ll be taking your dark shadow back to the Colonies for good, then? Doing Great Britain a service.” 

“Yeah, and it’s only like an hour away from Salem,” Ren says, stretching again and clearly trying to get Hux to pay more attention to her physical presence, rather than the fact she won’t have one in just little over a month. “By car, anyway. I’ve only been there once.”

Oh, _it’s only an hour from Salem_ , taunts Hux’s mind. She feels so silly now, though not so much because she really expected this… _whatever_ they’ve begun doing to go past a brief school fling, as it just couldn’t be done, but she had always expected to at least _see_ Ren past school. How is she possibly going to brag about her own successes when Ren is almost four thousand miles away?

“Anyway,” Ren announces, suddenly spreading her legs in a rather thought-diverting manner. She reaches out and takes Hux’s hand, sliding a broad thumb across knuckles before directing it slowly further up her leg and straight into the warm crux of her thighs. “Since you’ve totally forgotten your stupid books.”

Hux feels her eyes widen, any argument stalled handily at the decided lack of fabric between her hand and neatly clipped pubic hair. She needs to pull her hand back, she can’t – this is _far worse_ than the library. “Where are your knickers!?”

“Knickers?” Ren repeats, a quick, devastating flicker of humor across her expression. “Say it again – that accent is adorable.”

“I don’t have an accent,” Hux says, hesitantly letting her fingers relax and stroke gently against the coarse hair, certain that her face looks just as near bursting into flame as it feels; she shouldn’t be encouraging this, they could be _expelled_ , but…  What if they get so busy it’s their last chance? Not to mention how much she simply wants to; needs to feel like something is definitely here right now, even if she’ll soon only have herself again. “You’re the Yank, you tit.”

“Whatever.” Ren tilts her head to the side, causing an avalanche of curls down her neck and across her shoulder, dark and shiny in the mid-afternoon sun. “The Minister of Magic probably wishes he sounded as posh as you.”

Hux rolls her eyes, turning her hand and teasing the tips of her fingers along the soft skin on the crease of Ren’s thigh.

“You always sound like such a prude,” Ren continues, bucking up with intent, a determined twist at the corner of her mouth. “Even with your hand up my skirt.”

“I can’t believe that’s what you’re calling this,” Hux says, using her free hand to flick at the edge of the miniskirt, riding high on Ren’s thighs; it’s practically a belt at this angle. “Should I even hazard a guess of how many people saw your bare ass?”

Ren murmurs a low grumble before clearing her throat, voice carefully pitched for indifference. “I transfigured it after I found you, actually.”

“Excuses,” Hux says, trying not to feel too pleased – it’s obvious enough why Ren looks like she does, but it’s nice to hear it.

“Almost went full Britney Spears, too,” Ren adds, glancing down and plucking oddly at her shirt. “But I figured you’d just yell at me.”

Hux has absolutely no idea what that could even mean, but trusts Ren’s judgment on that front; she’s probably been on the other end of Hux’s ire more than anyone, and usually it seems like on purpose. She hums low and decides to reward the honesty with an exploratory swipe down the cleave of Ren’s pussy, jumping herself at the sound of an actual squeak; she looks up to find Ren belatedly trying to hide behind a hand.

“Shut up,” Ren snaps, sliding the hand up to cover her eyes, a particular ruddiness of shame coloring her neck. “Warning much?”

“You put my hand down here,” Hux reminds, feeling a little more daring and watching Ren’s face this time as she repeats the action, slipping her fingers further into pleasant heat to find her cunt already well slick. “I can feel why – I’m surprised you could hold conversation.”

Ren for her part is now biting hard on her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes in embarrassment, but her hips cant forward with want when Hux threatens to pull away.

“You wanted my fingers that bad, did you?” Hux asks, toying with slick folds between her fingers, pinching just slightly to see Ren wince, then sliding up to tease with a few fingers at her clit, swollen and jumping at contact. She leans away from the bench and shoves one of Ren’s legs behind her, sliding in between thighs to getting at a better angle.

Ren doesn’t even try for coquettish, answering with a short, fitful nod. “Yeah.”

Hux doesn’t bother to hold back a huff as she looks down, swallowing tight herself as she slowly slips a finger in, careful, but finding Ren loose and practically inviting, easily sliding a second finger at the next thrust just to listen for the perfect sound of a moan. She goes slow the first few thrusts, watching her fingers disappear, then goes gradually faster, looking up to find Ren with a grip held tight at her hair, giving faint pants at the end of every thrust.

“Shit, Hux,” Ren gasps, reaching out with her other hand and wrapping it loosely around Hux’s wrist as fingers plunge into her, “Fuck, _harder_ –!”

“So soon,” Hux taunts, but she entertains the request for a few seconds, leaning up and pressing a quick, selfish kiss to the corner of Ren’s gasping mouth, leaning away when Ren tries to turn into it. “However am I going to get my time’s worth?”

“Fuck,” Ren whines, her hips beginning to undulate, cunt tightening around Hux’s fingers, yet not quite with orgasm. She whimpers in frustration as Hux slows, only to let out a lovely groan just after, surging into the tight thrusts that Hux works against her g-spot, careful to keep a thumb teasing against her clit.

Her thighs curl around Hux as she gets even closer, one going over her back and the other tucking in tight, moving stiltedly back and forth, then going still with a long, low moan, her hand squeezing tight around Hux’s wrist. The thready pulse in her cunt fades a few seconds later, and she falls back flat on the bench, stretching her shoulders as Hux pulls back with a few caresses over overheated flesh.

Hux narrows her eyes as she looks up, caught on watching Ren awkwardly fumble with the buttons of her shirt, slowly splitting it open and revealing her not-unimpressive cleavage. It’s held up by something shockingly lacy, black and whorled, and definitely not anything Hux has ever seen before now.

“Is that new?”

“Transfigured,” Ren pants, gesturing lazily and propping one of her breasts up to show off the design. She curls her leg further around Hux’s back, nudging her closer. “But nice, right?”

Hux rolls her eyes, looking down and hesitantly starting to thrust her fingers again, twisting up and knowing it’s been enough time when Ren exhales almost in relief rather than shying away, slowly rolling her hips up to meet them. She can never really know when Ren is in the mood for multiple, but so far the data has resulted in more often than not.

“I don’t understand how you can get so wet,” Hux says, giving a few slower, harder drives just to make clear how very loud Ren’s cunt is, downright soaked now post an orgasm. She looks up and catches again on the heave of confined breasts, reaching out on her own whim to pull hard between the cups until the flimsy bra gives up and both escape, lolling soft against Ren’s chest to bounce gently with every plunge of her fingers. “Everything about you is too much.”

It always takes a minute or two to get the real reward of getting Ren to come twice, or more, but it’s never wasted effort. She has a tendency to get desperate, often teary, and today’s no disappointment, with the babbling that starts up once Hux gets a hand twisting tight over one of her nipples. 

“Fuck – _Hux_ ,” Ren inhales sharp, her fingers turning to claws through Hux’s jumper and pulling her closer to her chest, inadvertent as it may be. “I don’t think – it’s, it’s too – “ She breaks into choking little gasps, thrusting up desperately as her thick thighs twitch and tighten around Hux’s arm. “Please, _please_.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Hux says, leaning in and carefully licking around a dark, stiff areola, biting slightly just to hear an additional hitch of a moan; she does start moving a bit quicker, pressing up with short curls of her fingers. “You’ll just have to do it yourself.”

Ren gives a noise from low in her chest, almost a growl, and Hux finds herself pulled up by a big hand around her shoulder, her lips captured by a breathy, panting kiss. Ren is sloppy, careless and open mouthed in some quest to devour, teeth sharp and bruising, forcing Hux to be just as vicious.

The angle is made awkward for Hux’s wrist though, and she reaches down with her other hand, supplementing the angle with a spin of fingers around Ren’s clit. It seems to do a well enough job, Ren driving upward in desperation, getting so tight she’s practically trying to swallow Hux’s fingers.

The real warning before Ren comes is a quiet shriek, kiss breaking just before her cunt begins to pulse, stronger than before and wet enough that she can be heard in a lewd pattern around Hux’s fingers. The force of it even has her in satisfying shudders, hands and thighs squeezing shakily in synch with her hips jerking upward for friction, going on almost endlessly before she collapses into panting breaths, eyes screwing shut against escaping tears.

Hux will privately admit that Ren may have been correct about the studying – she feels more accomplished right now than she has all day. She slowly pulls her hand free, smirking at Ren’s little disappointed whimper, and hesitates a few moments before wiping off on the already-forgone skirt.

She leans away after a few moments of motionless respite, sparing a quick, indulgent nuzzle to a soft breast, and looks up and down Ren with a pleased hum, finding spread out on the bench the very definition of depraved: skirt hiked up and tits escaped of a crumpled shirt, eyes wet and lips swollen from biting. She looks like the sort of image one might seek out in the most shameful of publications, captivating in ways that can only be fantasy. 

Hux reaches out to draws the back of a thumb along Ren’s cheek. “You’ve smudged your kohl.”

“It’s okay,” Ren sniffles, still trembling some as she looks up through her lashes. She reaches out with a shaky hand and palms unsubtly at the hem of Hux’s jumper, quickly digging underneath and inside the buttoned shirt, broom-calloused fingers like sparks against Hux’s nipple. “Do you want me to eat you out?”

“Yes,” Hux hums, enjoying the attention a few moments longer, before pushing back clumsily from the bench in a manner that she’s certain Ren will mock her for later. “I certainly do.”

She reaches under her skirt, heat bursting across her face at the sudden realization of how wet she already is and unspeakably glad she went for kneesocks rather than tights, but hell, where is she going to put them that is remotely sanitary? They _should_ have done this in the library – there must be somewhere deep enough in the stacks that no one could hear or see them.

Oh, _good lord_ , what has she _become_?

“Wait,” Ren says, reaching out to grab and stop the process, tugging the skirt back down. “Leave them on.”

“What the hell would I do that for?” Hux asks, choosing only to not- _quite_ argue, some unmentionably pleased part of her mind holding her tongue; the cliché of a pervert coveting her underwear should be abhorrent, but she’s so eager to have that mouth put to work that she’ll agree to anything. It’s become very difficult to see sense beyond the wanton heat between her thighs; the slickness of her cunt.

She hesitates another moment before climbing over to straddle Ren’s chest, only to find the bench easily twice as wide as before, clearly done while she wasn’t looking – she hates that wandless magic.

“What about your sweater?” Ren asks, pulling clumsily at Hux’s waist until she’s near right above her face, then turning to nose at Hux’s inner thigh with a pout. “I don’t have _mine_.”

Hux rolls her eyes but hesitantly pulls off the jumper, feeling naked even with the button-up, though that gets summarily undone with a slight regret that she hardly bothers to wear a bra. Ren could at least pull hers back up should someone stumble upon them, but Hux would be left open; granted, with all the taunts about her chest, it’s likely the interloper wouldn’t even notice. Not next to Ren.

“Your tits,” Ren says, absurdly focused on task as she paws at both of Hux’s breasts, dwarfing them in her palms as she attempts to squeeze the pair together. “Are so cute.”

Hux scoffs aloud, reaching down and half-heartedly boxing Ren’s ear. “Move along.”

“I’m going to keep saying it,” Ren mutters, but she obediently drops her hands, sliding them across Hux’s ribs and tucking one under her ass to force her up, leaning in and nosing across the skirt. She slips her other hand beneath, fondling at the front of Hux’s pants with a good deal less confidence than her breasts. 

Hux exhales in irritation and spreads her legs wider to settle down, rolling her hips into the frustratingly delicate pressure of Ren’s roving hand. “It’s not like last time, Ren, I’m already wet.”

“Oh,” Ren mumbles, proceeding to lift Hux’s skirt completely and shift awkwardly under, her mouth an ensuing shock as she gives little more warning before nipping at the front of Hux’s underwear. Her mouth is hot and wet even through the fabric, tongue and lips working muted pressure that only adds to the ache of extant lust.

Hux closes her eyes against that first shy slip of fingers inside her underwear, knowing exactly when Ren gets confident as they sweeping up and down with little friction to be had – she maybe shouldn’t have mocked Ren so much earlier. The difference is she’s had anticipation working at her for ages, while Ren is just on a hair-trigger.

“Fuck,” Ren mutters, evidently stupefied despite the notice, sweeping a series of thrilling little circles around Hux’s clit.

The sensation of underwear being pulled to the side probably shouldn’t be so familiar, but Hux knows it all the same, gasping out a whimper as Ren summarily initiates an open mouth kiss with her cunt. She hastily pulls her skirt to the side, watching Ren lick up between her legs and gasping at the slick, intolerable heat of her tongue, sliding up and down and – fuck, _fuck_ , Ren is far too good at this for no good reason. The sight of it is half the torture, like she’s being treated to a show.

The most tragic part is that Ren seems rather aware of it, peeking up to catch Hux’s eyes at the same moment she surges up and sucks hard on her clit.

“Ren!” Hux huffs, the word bursting from her as a shock bolts up into her cunt, almost making her think she’s come as Ren’s tongue turns to relentlessly flicking back and forth in nonsense patterns. She can feel herself getting very close, very quickly, grasping at her own breast for more sensation as her cunt starts to ache, grinding desperately down into Ren’s open mouth.

Ren murmurs low and flattens her tongue, covering Hux’s clit in the most intolerable manner of heat as she moves back and forth, head shaking in quick, jerky movements. She grasps for better purchase at Hux’s lower back a few seconds later, shoving her forward and knocking her off balance with tingling little hums that punctuate the torturous rolls of her tongue.

Hux rocks into the sensation with increasingly thoughtless vigor, hearing herself pant with desperation to ease that tightness in her cunt. She chokes on a moan when she feels everything _finally_ let go, throbbing against Ren’s tongue, and drops her hand from her breast to twist it into thick black hair as she curls over forward. Her orgasms with Ren have somehow always left her seized, grasping for control, but bewilderingly not with stress, more like – unquestioned _relief._ Right now, for these few seconds, she feels like there’s nothing to be done but breathe.

She looks down with a low, long exhale once reality sinks back in, sweat cooling on her back and knees a little sore, to find Ren staring up with the sort of emotion that has her immediately off-kilter. She holds the look for a moment, then drops the hem of her skirt, obscuring Ren’s stupid, distracting doe eyes.

“Hey!” Ren yelps, her leveraging hand tightening around Hux’s ass, making her jump back as Ren uses her tongue to lap gently upward, drawing out by another few swipes that seem thankfully rather idle than out for another orgasm. She hums loud, apparently rubbing her cheek into Hux’s inner thigh. “This isn’t bad – maybe I’ll stay.”

Hux rolls her eyes, looking up and remembering with a shock that they’re still _outside_. She finds herself bounding off of Ren in an instant, her legs shaky as she meets the ground, but thankfully nothing looks to be out of order – nothing visible, anyway. She’s sorely tempted to pull her underwear off and scourgify them.

“You barely weigh anything, you know,” Ren hums, looking over and lifting her arm from the bench in some evident manner of flex, lopsided amusement breaking out across her face. “I could pick you up with one arm.”

“I’m as big as you,” Hux scoffs, straightening in vain the line of her skirt and bending down to gather her forgotten books. “We both get mocked for it.”

Granted, Hux hasn’t gotten it so bad that she punched someone hard enough they fell down two flights of stairs. No, she just gets the taunts that there’s no reason for a girl that looks like her to concentrate more on studies than Malkin’s next open auditions. She’s not sure what is worse.

“Is that why you need to study arithmancy?” Ren asks, standing from the bench and turning her head to peek at the book cover as its put away, ostensibly far less concerned with the state of herself; she’s buttoning her shirt, winding the scarf back around her neck, but the baseline of decency seems to be as far as she’ll climb. She’s only barely wiped off her face. “Height is only part of an equation, you know.”

Hux rolls her eyes as she endeavors to ignore the commentary, sliding her bag around to her back and turning on a heel to face Ren straight on from the front. “That is intolerable.”

Ren blinks back, toying with the scarf and pulling at it slightly as a smirk plays at the corner of her mouth. “That you’re stupid?” 

“That you look debased,” Hux snaps, kneeling down to hook her thumbs in the fallen hem of one of Ren’s socks, pulling it back up her thigh; she tries to level out the pins in the skirt to their proper place over Ren’s pelvis, but it has the consequence of revealing more leg. “Untransfigure your skirt.”

Ren rolls her eyes and pulls out her wand as Hux stands back up, her skirt returning to a respectable knee-length with a flick and a mumble.

Hux takes a step back and glances over Ren again, finding her as much in order as she can be, though the urge to reach out proves to be too strong as she lifts a hand to comb a loose curl behind one of Ren’s ears. Her hair is often braided up in a pair of neat plaits that fall down her back, but it looks so much better like this, especially messy from sex, as it falls soft and glossy in a manner that looks more charmed than accidental.

The slog back to the castle is long, but the afternoon has bled pleasantly into early-evening in the time since Hux looked up and found that Ren had followed her. It’s almost enjoyable, keeps her mind off the work she still has to do, at least until she looks out across the lake and can only think of her dormitory underneath – cell-like and only centimeters from drowning her.

Ren thankfully interrupts the desolate thoughts with the garbled hum of some tune that Hux doesn’t recognize. “We have a Hogsmeade visit next weekend.” 

Hux nods shortly, though she’s rarely given much of her attention to Hogsmeade visits and seldom regretted it – aside for in fourth year, after she found out she’d missed Canady getting his head transfigured into a stump. “Last one, as well.”

“I just was, uh,” Ren stutters slightly, unexpected and setting off warning bells, her voice going low and words practically stumbling from her open mouth, “Wondering about Madam Puddifoots – if you’ve been?”

Hux chokes on a startled scoff, flustered slightly as she recalls little about the place aside for a few second-hand accounts of people going on about their _dates_ ; charmed biscuits and tea with dragon’s breath and fireweed, the nerves of holding hands under tables. “I’ve not, no,” she mutters, grimacing to the ground as an embarrassed flush surges across the back of her neck. “I’ve never even looked inside.”

“Me neither, and I go back to Salem right after school ends, so I –” Ren goes abruptly silent, her reticence filled with steps of crunching gravel. She exhales with a heavy gust of air only a few seconds later, confirming it’s been held. “I wanted to go. Inside.”

Hux squeezes at the strap of her bag, mouth twisting up and aware enough that she’s been given some opening to pretend she’s not aware what is being posed. The past few months have been… short, too short if anyone asked her, compared to the six years they’ve spent at odds; school is ending soon, they have NEWTs, Ren has revealed she’s leaving the country for good, and nothing makes their time left more clearly finite than the slow rise of the castle in front of them.

She swallows tightly, risking a glance sideways only to find Ren just as quickly looking away. “It could be interesting to see what the fuss is about.”

“Yeah,” Ren agrees, clearing her throat with evident relief and nudging in close to Hux, as she seems to have gotten accustomed as of late, voice going lower, “If it’s stupid, we can – you know, transfigure some teacups into eagles?”

Hux settles it with a short nod, realizing she’s somehow been made more self-conscious by this conversation than she was sitting on Ren’s face ten minutes ago. “And a snake or two.”

The chill that washes over her spine as they step into the Great Hall erases all of that coy embarrassment, replacing it with epiphany and utter mortification – she’s forgotten to have Ren untransfigure the bench. She glances backward with a grimace, hastily weighing the quickest options to get back, starting with Ren and a broom, though maybe no one who goes out there will think of them? Her reputation is too… prudish, as Ren said, so no. No one will even think of them.

They just can’t.

**Author's Note:**

> otpthot was taking prompts and i threw out witches, to which [they gave back femlux hogwarts](https://twitter.com/otpthot/status/959658677773856769) and i was like _'fuck'_
> 
> I waffled a lot on posting this, being like 99% smut, but it's the only thing I've finished in months.


End file.
